Running in the Rain

          Yesterday on the way to work, it was raining.  It was a Saturday morning and I had to be at work early to set up for a big event I was hosting.  My plan was to be there by 7.  On my drive in, it occurred to me that 7 a.m. on Saturday is when I usually meet my running club for our long run.  The first clue was hearing the 90s hits on the radio I used to listen to on my way to Saturday club.  The second was all the runners who were out on the roads and trails. 

          It was the kind of morning I used to dread as a runner.  Cold and rainy.  Even so, I never considered not running on those days.  My motivation was always very high and kept me running through all kinds of annoying conditions, whether it was below zero and blustery, just above freezing and raining, or 90 degrees and sticky.  In club, we joke that running in the elements builds character.  And it’s true, it really does.  I used to feel invincible after those long runs last winter when every Saturday was colder and snowier than the Saturday before.  I’ll admit they would sometimes make me crabby, too.  But crabby AND invincible. 

          It’s been three weeks since I last went running.  Yesterday was the first day in these past three weeks that I really missed it.  I wanted to be out there running in the rain with all the other runners.  I wanted to be hard core and invincible like they were.  Like I used to be.  The sentiment surprised me.  Why would I miss the most miserable of runs?  The answer, I realized, is that the miserable runs are badges of honor.  They prove how important running is to me.  And more often than not, they’re pretty damn ridiculous and as a result, oodles of fun. 

          All in all, my exercise restriction hasn’t been as hard on me as I thought it would be.  It’s given me perspective and it’s pushed me out of my regular routine.  That’s been a good thing for me.  I went for a walk with Coach Mitch last week and admitted to him that running was really hurting the last month I was still doing it.  But I’m stubborn and I’m not one to let discomfort stop my workouts. I don’t like change and I wanted to prove I could still do it.  In retrospect, I was doing far too much.  I didn’t want to adjust, even though my body was and is going through a massive reorganization. 

          My spirits have been good.  I owe it to the temporary nature of pregnancy.  I’m already raring to get back to it after baby comes . . .  like an antsy horse forced to wait behind the starting gate.  But it will be a slow and unpredictable return back to the sport.  I’ll be dealing with excess weight, nursing, and two children instead of one.  Still, I want it.  I know I’ll get it back.  And I’m appreciating the time I have now to step back reflect on it.    

   

My Last Run

     I set my alarm for 6:30 this morning.  I finally got myself up at 5:10 after tossing and turning all night.  I keep thinking about running and previa. 

     It’s hard for me to imagine not running.  I love the camaraderie of my running club.  I love seeing other runners on the lakes and knowing  I am one of them.  I love how it empowers me and gives me confidence that I didn’t have in my pre-running years.   I love looking down at my legs and seeing how powerful they are.  I love the calm it brings me when I get home after a run . . . how it makes me a better wife, mom, and person.  I absolutely love how running makes me feel. 

     Everything I read online says no running with previa.  Yet, my midwife says it’s ok.  I decided I will call for another opinion when the clinics open up later today.  Even so, my gut instinct is that I should hang up my running shoes, as much as I don’t want to. 

     I’m honestly scared about what I’ll be like without running in my life.  Running brought me out of postpartum depression two years ago.  It’s a lot of what keeps me going.  I’m trying to stay on the positive side, though.  I like walking and will probably use my usual running time to walk around the lakes.  I’m looking forward to the challenge of staying healthy without running, and probably without weightlifting in my life.  It will be different, to say the least.  But as scared as I am about not running, it doesn’t come close to the terrified I am about delivering a baby at 32 weeks or even sooner. 

      The gist of what I’ve been finding out about previa is that bedrest is common as is a baby that comes prematurely.  What really pulls at my heartstrings, though, is a scenario where I’m on bedrest in the hospital and I don’t get to see Daughter for more than a few minutes a day.  The thought of that kills me.  I also think about a situation where Chris and I try to juggle one newborn in the NICU and one toddler in the real world for an extended amount of time.  The upside is I haven’t had any symptoms to suggest either of those two results.  I am extremely grateful for that. 

     I’ve decided that I’m going to go out for one last run with the club tonight and savor it.  I need a firm goodbye from the activity that brings me so much happiness.  I will certainly miss taking my baby boy on runs with me, but it’s what’s best for both of us.  He’ll understand.  And if things go well, I won’t go out for another run until October.  Going out sooner would mean baby came too early.  

Previa

    My midwife called me first thing yesterday morning.  She had just seen my ultrasound notes from the previous day and wanted to brief me on the implications.  Baby boy looks perfect, no need to worry about anything with him.   I, on the other hand, have a slightly bigger problem than I realized.  The radiology tech didn’t give anything away the day before during the procedure. 

     The midwife explained that placenta previa is a legitimate concern.  Previa means the placenta is growing over my cervix.  In some cases, the placenta partially covers cervix.  In my case, it’s completely covering it.  The visual that pops into my head is a washcloth covering a drain.   A lot times, this issue resolves itself as the uterus continues to grow.  However, because of my placenta’s location, my midwife is fairly certain it’s not going to go anywhere.  She told me to start psyching myself up for a C section. 

Diagram taken from babycenter.com

      

     With my complete previa comes some restrictions.  Mainly, I need what the nurses call pelvic rest.  My midwife told me to give Chris her apologies for that.  We don’t want to risk detaching the placenta since it’s right there.   In fact, she told me I couldn’t even get checked by medical staff for dilation, etc., for the same reason.  She went on to explain that bleeding is more likely with this type of placenta placement.  And if bleeding does occur, it’s a big deal that will likely lead to bedrest.  You can read more about it here. 

     It’s funny how a little bit of information can make you feel so different.  Suddenly, I feel more fragile.  Coach Mitch asked the obvious question of me that I didn’t think to ask the midwife:  Should I stop running?  I called her back to find out, fighting back tears at the prospect of not running for 28 weeks.  That’s more than half a year!   Surprisingly, she said running is still okay.  What a relief!  Not only for my mental and physical health, but I took it as a good sign that things are not as bad as they originally seemed.   If I can still run 25 miles a week, how bad of a complication can this be?  (Unless you’re Chris.)

     If things stay on course, I will probably curb my running at the beginning of the third trimester.  As of yesterday, I’ve given up my hope of running until my due date.  The risk is not worth the gain.  It’s during the third trimester that bleeding is more likely with complete previa.  I don’t want to provoke it.  As Coach Mitch says, not being able to run is nothing compared to being stuck in bed.  I believe him. 

     In the meantime, I’m trying to decide what Baby’s birthday should be.  

Ultrasound I

          After obsessing about my ultrasound for a couple weeks, today was finally the day.  The day I would find out if my baby was okay.  The day we’d confirm that there was only one baby in there.  The day we’d find out if we’re having another daughter or a son. 

     Chris picked me up after his morning class and we headed to the clinic.  After checking in, we waited less than 5 minutes for my name to be called.  A short, youngish woman who was both friendly and fast-paced led us to a darkened room.  I struggled to keep up with her.  When we got settled, she promptly started the procedure.  Baby was on the screen as soon as the wand hit my belly.  And man was that baby moving!   Of course I realize that I am pregnant and that there’s a baby in my belly, but there’s something about seeing that baby up on the screen that makes it seem so much more personal and real.  I could feel my priorities shifting as I watched the spine and head dance around the screen.  Our baby was there.  Waving at us and kicking around.  Looking exactly the way a baby is supposed to look at 20 weeks.  All the bones and organs were in the right place and fused correctly.  The heartbeat was lub-dubbing away at 129 beats per minute.  Measurements predicted a current weight of 14 ounces.  It was profound. I'm actually growing a person.  Right now.  

A first look at Baby

     About twenty minutes into the ultrasound, and after a potty break for me, the technician had a clear shot of Baby’s genital region.  She pointed out his scrotum and penis.  That’s how she told us we’re having a boy.  (We’re having a boy!)  In that first moment, I was filled with elation.  I wanted a boy!  But in the next moment, I was sad.  I wanted another Daughter, too.  I wanted both.  Pregnancy hormones aren’t supposed to make sense.  Although, Chris says he felt the same thing I did.  He wanted a boy and a girl, too.  Now that we've had some time to soak it in, we are both ridiculously happy about the healthy baby boy that we’ve made. 

     When I was pregnant with Daughter, we decided not to find out her gender until I delivered.  I found out she was a girl when I was strapped down to the operating table.  This time, I wanted it to be different.  I’m SO glad we decided to find out.  I don’t regret this decision in the least.  I already feel more closely bonded with my lil guy.  I suspected he was a he from the beginning.  Although in my obsessing the last few weeks, my intuition was getting fuzzy.  I'm glad intuition prevailed.  We told Daughter the exciting news after school today and she’s excited to have a little brother.  She’s planning on teaching him how to play . . . when he gets a little bigger, she’ll tell you. 

     There was one minor complication that came up on the scan.  Turns out my placenta is growing right over my cervix, which means the exit is blocked.  It’s called placenta previa.  For baby, it doesn’t matter in the least.  For me, it means I’ll have a few extra scans in the coming weeks to see if the placenta migrates up.  If it doesn’t, I'll have a mandatory C-section.  What’s weird is that I didn’t freak out about that.  As much as I want a VBAC and to hold baby right after he is born, I felt a little relief about a possible required C-section.  Being able to schedule the day that baby is born sounded kind of nice.  Also, not having to worry about my uterus rupturing, well, that doesn’t sound so bad either.  And going without tearing or incontinence.  These all sound like good, good things to me.  I know I have the option of scheduling a section even if my placenta does decide to move out of the way.  I didn’t realize how much I wouldn’t mind one, though, until today.  I’m curious if these feelings will stick with me as my emotions continue to ebb and flow.  I know that Baby will likely not end up in NICU if we plan on a section from the beginning, instead of having one after 2 days of labor like the last time.  And if Baby is not in NICU, that means Baby can be with me.  (I think.  I need to find out more about that.)

     I went running with my club tonight and started sharing news of my baby’s gender.  Everyone is very excited for me and my growing family.  I even saw Victor (of Whistlestop fame) who showed up for the first time in a while.  He told me I’ve grown a lot since I’ve seen him last . . . which was St. Patty’s day, two and a half weeks ago.  I agreed.  I’ve been growing like a weed lately.  I ran almost 5 miles with a gal who’s running a marathon out east this weekend.  It was a great little run.  The weather must have been perfect because I don’t remember being hot or cold. 

     Afterwards, though, I didn’t feel too great.  When I got home, my belly felt tight.  I’ve had this happen after a few runs.  I’m not sure what it is.  I asked Google and it mentioned something about Braxton-Hicks.  The first time it happened, I did think it was a contraction because my belly felt hard.  Contractions don’t seem right to me, though.  It’s not an on and off kind of thing, but a constant tightness.  And it’s always gone by the next day.  I wonder if it’s my ab muscles getting sore from trying to keep my bouncing belly in place.  Whatever it is, I’m not a fan.  But I’m not ready to stop running yet. 

     In summary, a Big Day:  We’re having a boy.  My placenta is too low.  My belly hurts.  I’m still running.  

Growing

     My belly has grown exponentially since last week.  Yes, pregnancy is a beautiful and natural thing, but in some regards, it’s absurd.  To grow at this rate is shocking, to say the least. 

     The size I’m at now is about the upper limit of my comfort level.  What’s concerning is I’m only halfway there.  This weekend marks my 20^th week of pregnancy with 20 more to go.  I really am scared about how big I’m going to get.  My goal is to run through my entire pregnancy, but I’m starting to think the physics of it all isn’t going to work.  I’m up about 20 pounds from racing weight (15 pounds from my comfortable weight).  That’s a lot considering I’m only 5’1”.  My joints are starting to complain about the added burden.  But the biggest hindrance is the back pain.  I’m all out of proportion and my back arches severely to manage the added frontal weight.  And it’s only going to get worse. 

A photo from 5 days ago.  I've grown about 4 inches in circumference since then.  

     There’s not really a how-to guide for training during pregnancy on the market.  I expect no one wants to touch that for fear of liability.  My plan is to do what feels good for as long as I can.  So far, I’m still able to run my regular distances and it feels okay.  I’m slower every day, but I’m still doing it.  Speed isn’t a factor in my current training plan.  Moving is. 

     I’m trying my best to stay confident that I can keep this running up as my shocking growth continues.  (Free advice:  Confidence is 9/10 of the game in running and probably in life.)   I have to admit, though, the confidence is wavering.  (20 more weeks?!?)  So far, I’ve run through half of my pregnancy and that’s no small feat.  However the bigger feat is yet to come.  (Did you catch the double entendre there?)  Even if today ends up being my last run until after baby comes, I’ll be happy with my accomplishments.  I cherish every run I finish now in a way I didn’t before.  Every time I beep on my Garmin, I know in the back of my mind that it might be my last run for a while.  The encouragement from my peers has been extremely helpful.  This morning during my long run, a friend reminded me “You’re growing life, woman.  Go easy on yourself.”  When I got home afterwards, Chris asked me how far I went.  It was only 7.72 miles.  He said, “That’s still 3 times farther than I can run.”  Sometimes I forget that distance running is a little extreme.  Distance running during pregnancy is even more so. 

     Pregnant running is giving me perspective for future training, post-baby.  It will seem easier, for sure.  My complaints won’t have a leg to stand on because I’ll be able to say, “At least it’s easier than pregnant running.”  In fact, it might give me an edge that a lot of other runners won’t have.  What I’m most looking forward to, though, is seeing and, more importantly, feeling my improvement.  I think about that a lot while I’m running to take my mind off the aches and the constant pressure on my bladder.  In the meantime, I’ve got to stay confident and keep moving through the discomfort.   Let’s see if we can make it to 7 months.  

Body Pump

Body Pump is a lot harder than it used to be.   For those of you who aren’t familiar with body pump, it’s a 60 minute, high repetition weightlifting class.  You can find out more here.  The class is great for cross-training.  I have fewer running aches and pains if I keep up with my body pump at least twice a week. 

Lately, though, it’s been wearing me out. 

Usually when I miss a week or two of class, the first time back is rough.  I’m sore and worn out . . . if not by the end of the hour, within two hours after the end of the class.  But the subsequent classes get easier as my body remembers the routine. 

That’s not happening anymore.  Every class in the last few weeks has been a challenge.  During class, I have to take breaks as my temperature and heart rate get too high and threaten light-headedness.  After finishing this afternoon’s class, I had to sit in the car for a few minutes waiting to recover before I felt comfortable enough to drive.  On one hand, I was happy that I had an effective workout.   I’m getting more bang for my workout buck.  On the other, I realized I’m going to be exhausted for the rest of the day.  

I’ve been finding the same result with running.  If you read my last post about Drew Hills, you know how much effort I put into that run.  The day after Drew Hills, I was useless.  Completely spent.   I’m still pleased with the workout, but I wished I would have had enough energy to get an easy run in the next day, too.  It didn’t happen. 

A cute picture of Daughter taken shortly before Body Pump today.  

I’ve been planning my workouts more carefully with this newly developed, post-workout, intense fatigue.  I skipped my long run this past weekend because I needed a whole day to work on my thesis.  If I would have ran first, I would have been too tired for intellectual thought.  Even with a nap.  (See my post on Mental Fatigue) Husband tells me this tiredness will probably only get worse. 

Scheduling workouts has been a struggle.  My runs have been sporadic, which is SO unlike me.  (Ask my coaches.  During training, I don’t miss runs.  Ever.)  I’ve been doing pretty well with body pump classes.  I need to work harder at getting runs in.  Yet, at the same time, I feel like any kind of forward progress is good for me right now.  When I was pregnant with Daughter, I didn’t run a single mile.  Then 2 years later I ran a 3:35 marathon.  With this new baby, I’ve logged over 300 miles already.  I’m already in much better shape this time around.  On the days I miss a run for whatever reason (don’t want to be worn out, just ate, too exhausted from work . . .) I usually get a lake walk in.  This past week, I walked around Lake Harriet on 3 different days.  It makes me feel better.  It’s forward progress.

In the next few weeks, I plan to get back up to 3 runs a week while maintaining my 2 body pumps.  They may have to be lower intensity runs, but they will be runs.  A month from today, I will be submitting my thesis to my committee and will have a HUGE time suck taken away.  Then I’ll have nothing but time to run and lift and play with my 2 year-old and be tired.  I’m looking forward to it. 

Drew Hills

     I showed up to running club tonight expecting to do an easy run around Lake of the Isles and Lake Calhoun.  Turns out I read the email wrong.  The lakes were Monday’s workout that I skipped.  Tonight was Drew Hills.  When Coach Red first announced that, I turned to my friend, Jessika, and said, “Shit.  I didn’t know we were doing hills tonight.”  Without missing a beat, she came back with, “Oh yeah.  That’s why I came tonight.  I like Drew Hills.”

     I used to like Drew Hills, back when I was a front-of-the-pack runner.  In fact, Drew Hills is a bit nostalgic for me.  We used to do that workout a lot when I was in the intermediate group of running club, when I first joined up.  I was thrilled when marathon group ran Drew back in my first marathon training session.   Keep in mind I was a little fish among a sea of marathoners.  That first training session was intimidating, but that’s a post for another day. 

     We started out on the run and I beeped my Garmin on.  Jessika was nice enough to hang back with me for the 2 mile warm-up.  I thanked her for it and she reminded me that I ran with her when she was pregnant.  That’s one of my favorite things about running club:  Someone’s always got your back. 

     Even with Jessika’s company, I was getting frustrated with the run.  The rest of the group kept getting further and further ahead of us.  I was thinking it’s time for me to give up the club until post-baby.  I wasn’t sure there was a place for a pregnant gal in a running club.  Everyone else is training to get faster.  I’m just trying to finish the workouts, regardless of how slow I have to go to get there.  I’m just trying to hang in there so I can bounce back quickly after Baby is born. 

     We got over to Drew, on the far side of Cedar Lake.  Drew Hills is about a half-mile loop that has a smaller hill first and a more significant hill on the back end.  Then we run back down and do it again.  When we started the first repeat, Jessika took off ahead of me.  I was glad, I didn’t want to hold her back from the workout.  I ran the first 3 loops alone.  The nice thing about Drew, though, is that you keep seeing people the whole time you’re running.  In a .5 mile loop, you see everyone over and over.  I like that a lot.  Other clubbers kept yelling encouragements to me and I did the same.  Coach Red even shouted, “Looking good, you guys!” referring to me and the baby. 

     It didn’t take long for me to realize I was in the zone.  I felt good.  I felt great.   Instead of running the 3 loops I had planned on, I finished 5.  Sure, the last 20 yards of the second hill were torture, but I made it to the top, running, every single time. That’s all I can ask for. 

     While I was running in the zone tonight, I was contemplating the balance of pushing myself harder vs. taking it easy because of the pregnancy.  Pregnancy is notorious for giving women an easy way out of all things challenging.  For good reason.  But I wonder how necessary it is to take it easy all the time.  If I feel okay, shouldn’t I push myself a little harder and get outside of my comfort zone?  Won’t that help my fitness?  (Let me repeat the beginning of that phrase: if I feel okay.)

     I pushed myself tonight and I felt great.  It was just like the old days of running, when it was just me (before the baby).  I’m not as fast as I used to be, but the workout was just as rewarding.    

     I loved running tonight.  After the rocky start, the rest was perfection.